The deafening sounds echo in the night sky,
Shells falling to the trenches we called home,
Death’s culling has been ever nigh,
Everyone bloodied, blown, I am in the trenches alone.

Bodies lay scattered, mingling amongst the dirt,
All of them, children, chasing romance and glory.
They never knew how much war would hurt,
In the end they only become ghosts of an untold story.

I sit amongst the line of my dead brothers,
Tanks and soldiers passing on by
I was alive, staring into the eyes behind a barrel, remorseless,
I knew this is how I die.

The trenches were never for the brave,
It was simply boys digging their own graves.